


Jealous

by TeamDamon



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s Stucky, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kisses, Frottage, M/M, Prewar Stucky, Some angst, a hint of internalized homophobia, just one paragraph tho, pre-serum steve, these boys have no clue what they're doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamDamon/pseuds/TeamDamon
Summary: Before the war, Bucky takes Steve on a double date that for once actually goes pretty well for them both. But Steve couldn't be more miserable, and over the course of the night he finally realizes why. Only one thing's for sure - things will never be the same by the time the night is over.





	Jealous

**Author's Note:**

> My huge HUGE thanks to MorningGlory2 for her help with story and being my sounding board and all around helper, I love you so much :D I hope you guys like this!! It's my first attempt at prewar Stucky and pre-serum Steve so hopefully it doesn't suck :)

If Bucky ever dragged Steve out on another double date, Steve decided for good this time, he was going to deck him and make him live to regret it. 

It wasn't even the worst date that Steve'd had, all things considered, but slightly better than abysmal wasn't anything to write home about. As it stood presently, he was seated at a table in complete and utter silence with his half of the date, a very pretty and perfectly lovely gal named Sally, while Bucky and his date - Elizabeth, he called her Bess - were up twirling and jumping and dancing like it was their last night on earth to do so. 

Typically by now the girl that Steve was stuck with would have either bailed or just explicitly made her lack of interest in Steve known, and the weird thing was that Steve was pretty sure he would have preferred that to his current dilemma. Sally seemed to actually like him, at least enough to keep trying to make conversation, and Steve was sure that something was horribly wrong with him because he _just couldn't do it._

He tried his best, but words weren't working right and he had no idea what to say or do, and every time his eyes drifted to Bucky joyfully spinning his girl around the smoky dance floor, Steve felt an inexplicable burst of anger that only made things worse. 

Bucky made things look so easy, so effortless. All he had to do was flash a girl that ridiculously charming smile of his and they were all putty in his hands, but Steve couldn't even figure out how to string together a sentence coherent enough to keep a decent conversation going with a woman. 

"So... you, uh," Sally began quietly and nervously herself, fiddling with her pale pink skirt, "you said you're an artist? You go to art school?"

Steve nodded, grabbing his beer and taking a long sip while inwardly berating himself for sweating and feeling like he was on the verge of having a fit. "Yeah, that's right."

"What do you draw? Do you paint?"

Steve gave a small shrug, glancing her way before quickly looking elsewhere, having a much harder time speaking when he was looking at her. "Oh just... anything, really. Sometimes I sketch, sometimes I paint."

"What was the last thing you sketched?" she asked sweetly, and _God_ Steve wished that she hadn't. 

He couldn't tell her that the last thing he'd sketched was Bucky sleeping back home in their shared apartment because Bucky didn't even know that and Steve wasn't sure why he'd done it, either. He'd just... wanted to. But what was wrong with that? Why did he feel like he had to hide that when there was nothing strange about sketching his friend?

"A... lamp," Steve lied, furrowing his brows the minute the words left his lips. _A lamp?_ He was clearly as useless at lying as he was at speaking in general. 

"Oh. That's nice," Sally smiled, and Steve smiled back before they lapsed into silence once more. 

He glanced across the dance floor and caught a glimpse of Bucky laying a kiss on his girl before twirling her out and pulling her back in. Steve's grip on his beer tightened and he suddenly wanted to throw it at Bucky's head. 

He didn't understand why he couldn't be like Bucky. It wasn't fair that everything - _everything_ \- had to be so much harder for him than it was for Bucky. Hell, even breathing was harder. 

Steve sitting there and alternating between glaring daggers at Bucky and at the table, it didn't take long for Sally to lose the last of her hope and decide to throw in towel. She shook Steve out of his angry daze by gathering her things and saying, "It's getting late and I don't want my sister to worry so I think I'll just head on home now -"

"Oh, you don't - I can walk you home," Steve quickly offered even as Sally stood up and waved him off. 

"No, no, I'm okay," she smiled. "Stay and... have fun." She then cringed slightly and dashed away before Steve could say another word. 

He let out a deep sigh and sunk back in his seat, suddenly exhausted and ready to go home and be done with this terrible night. He reached for his drink only to discover it empty, at which point he stood up and headed for the bar to get something a little stronger. 

The bartender had just slid him his double whiskey when Steve nearly toppled over thanks to Bucky slapping his shoulder from behind, moseying up to the bar all smiley and happy with a too-loud, "Hey, Steve, where's your dame?"

Steve tried not to roll his eyes. "Probably home by now. She left."

Bucky furrowed his brows and tilted his head. "She left? Why? I thought you two were gettin' along."

"Yeah, well... obviously not," Steve muttered before taking a healthy swig of the dark liquid. 

"Hey," Bucky said gently, nudging Steve until he finally looked his way for the first time. "I'm sorry, pal. If I'd known -"

Steve shook his head and shrugged Bucky off, not really wanting to look at him and the concerned sympathy on his dancing-flushed face. Bucky just _looked_ like he belonged there - tall and reasonably well dressed in a suit and suspenders minus the jacket, confidence oozing from his very pores. He was everything Steve wasn't, or at least that was what Steve was now fully convinced of. 

"It's fine," Steve muttered after knocking back more of the whiskey. "Where'd Bess go?"

"Ladies' room," Bucky replied as an afterthought. "Look why don't we go on and head home, and -"

"No," Steve shook his head, frowning as he looked up at Bucky. "I'll go. You stay and have fun."

"S'not really any fun when the date went to shit for you," Bucky replied, and Steve knew they'd go around and around in circles unless he put his foot down.

"Listen, Buck, just..." Steve set down his now-empty glass and waved him off. "It's fine, I -"

His words were cut off by Bess' rather exuberant return, the tipsy young woman quite literally throwing herself at Bucky with a loud giggle and a kiss that she laid right on his unsuspecting lips. Steve turned away the moment it happened, a swell of anger blooming in his chest that he could neither stop nor understand. He dropped some money on the bar to cover his last drink and then turned to leave. 

He didn't get more than a few steps away before Bucky grabbed his arm and pled, "Steve, seriously, hang on -"

Acting purely on instinct and having no actual idea what he was doing, Steve whipped around and smacked Bucky's hand off and half-yelled, "Just leave me alone, would you?!"

Bucky let go and stared at Steve in confusion, as hurt as he was bewildered. Steve stared back until Bess started tugging at Bucky's hand, at which point Steve turned around and walked away, and this time Bucky let him go. 

Steve's walk home gave him a much-needed chance to reflect on what the hell had happened back there and cool off, but instead of calming down he only grew angrier with each new step he took. The night was chilly and he kept his hands balled up in fists inside the pockets of his jacket, trying his best to understand his own aggression and where it was coming from.

He grimaced as he wondered if it was all rooted in jealousy on his part. He'd always done so well in the past to curb that easy envy that he could have felt towards Bucky for his better health, his way with women, his parents that were still among the living, but now... now he supposed he was slipping up for the first time. He didn't want to be jealous of Bucky and hated the very idea of it but damn it, he was only human. 

He wrestled with himself the whole way home, stewing in his anger and slamming the door to his and Bucky's shared apartment shut harder than he normally ever would. He tossed off his jacket and shoes, loosening his tie as he made for the kitchen and the old bottle of cheap scotch that he knew Bucky had stashed somewhere in there. 

He'd finally located the bottle in the back of a cabinet when he heard the surprising sound of the front door opening and Bucky's unmistakably heavy steps following. Steve took a swig from the bottle and grimaced before turning around and watching as Bucky shut the door behind him and threw up his hands in a _what the hell_ gesture as he met Steve's gaze head on. 

"You gonna tell me what the hell that was all about?" Bucky demanded, slipping out of his jacket, and Steve frowned and looked away. His anger was swelling again at Bucky's mere presence and he hated it but he couldn't stop it, and he didn't know why. He didn't understand anything, not tonight. "Well?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," Steve muttered, taking another drink before deciding it wasn't worth the effort and slapping the cap back on the bottle. 

"Yeah, well, too bad," Bucky said, coming his way. Steve ducked out of the little kitchen and dodged him, heading for the equally tiny bedroom they shared but being stopped by a sudden grip on his arm. "Steve, seriously, c'mon. Talk to me."

Rather than slap his hand away again, Steve squared his jaw and turned around. "Why? What's the point? Just another date gone wrong, right? Nothing new."

"But it was going fine!" Bucky argued, brows pinched in confusion. "She liked you! Told Bess so and everything!"

Steve flushed with - something, he wasn't sure what. "Well I guess that changed." He paused and shook his head. "You shouldn't have come after me. No point in you missing out, too."

"Steve," Bucky said gently, "the way you were acting - s'not like you. Course I came after you."

Steve tried to ignore how much better those words instantly made him feel, sneering, "I'm sure _Bess_ isn't happy." He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. 

Bucky furrowed his brows and cocked his head just slightly enough to make Steve feel suddenly exposed, like he'd just let a secret slip though he didn't have the faintest idea what. "Steve, I don't know what's gotten into you, but -"

"Nothing, it's nothing," Steve shook his head, turning to flee once more but again not making it far. This time Bucky moved to stand directly in his way, and Steve's increasingly flustered anger was suddenly nearing critical levels. 

"Why do you keep trying to run away, Steve? It's me," Bucky laughed slightly while Steve stared stonily at the floor. Bucky's smile slowly faded as he then asked quietly, "Did I... is it something I did?"

Steve sighed and shook his head. Of course it wasn't. It never was. 

"Then... is it... was it Sally?" Bucky paused and chewed his lip absentmindedly. "She's a sweet gal but... shit, if you didn't like her I didn't mean to try to push her on you. I thought you two would get along."

Steve shook his head again, one hand reaching up to loosen his tie a little bit more as he suddenly broke into a mild sweat. "No, she was fine. Nothing wrong with her."

Bucky stared at him in confusion, raising one hand and then letting it fall in exasperation. "Then... what? You gotta give me something here. I'm obviously missing something."

Steve almost laughed. They were both missing something. "I don't know," he finally shrugged, deciding a lie was better than nothing and would at least get him off the hook for now. "Maybe I'm just jealous of you, Buck. You make it look so easy and it's just... not."

Bucky's expression softened for all of a few seconds before turning quizzical, then almost... angry? "Bullshit."

Steve blinked. "What?"

"Bullshit," Bucky repeated. "You've never been jealous of me a day in your damn life. Not like that. Why're you lying to me?"

Steve glared at him. "I'm not."

Bucky glared right back. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Tell me what's really going on."

"Nothin'," Steve insisted, turning around and deciding to just sleep on their threadbare couch if Bucky was gonna keep blocking his way to the bedroom. "Leave me the fuck alone."

Bucky snorted at Steve's vulgar demand, following right behind Steve without missing a beat. "Fine. If you're not gonna tell me, I'll just tickle it outta ya."

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. "Wait, wh-"

And that was all the warning he had before there were suddenly fingertips at his ribcage, tickling him with a vengeance that made him yelp, laugh and whip around so fast that he lost his footing completely. Bucky caught him, of course, but he also didn't stop tickling and when they ended up on the floor it was surprising to neither of them. 

Steve decided in that moment that he was going to absolutely kill Bucky for this. 

Bucky used to do this when they were kids, a last resort that he'd employ when Steve was holding out on him and nothing else was working. Steve _hated_ being tickled and he'd always manage to get a few well-deserved slugs at Bucky in but he would also always finally cave and spill, willing to do anything to make the torture stop. The only problem this time was that he wasn't sure what the truth was himself, so how was he supposed to confess?

"C'mon, Rogers," Bucky grinned, looming over Steve on the floor and wreaking utter havoc upon the poor man. Steve was a writhing, giggling mess, trying to kick and slap Bucky away but Bucky simply pinned one of Steve's legs with his own and grabbed both of Steve's small wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head on the floor while his other hand continued to tickle the life out of him. "You know I'm not gonna stop until you tell me."

"I fuckin' - fuck you," Steve managed through breathless laughter, cheeks flushed and body squirming like a madman. Bucky simply redoubled his efforts, and as Steve lost his mind giggling and nearly crying with rage, Bucky's leg slipped between both of his and this thigh rubbed against Steve just right to make him gasp _way_ too loudly. Bucky just kept right on going, oblivious, but Steve's eyes popped open and focused on the man above him and suddenly everything became painfully and astonishingly clear.

The obnoxious smile on Bucky's face, the way that his messy dark hair was falling into his face, the blue of his mischievous eyes - all of it was second nature to Steve, every bit of Bucky as familiar as breathing itself, but it was as if Steve was seeing him for the first time. He realized that he wasn't jealous of Bucky and never had been, just as Bucky had said. His anger wasn't aimed at him, Sally, or even at himself. 

The truth was that Steve was jealous of Bess. He was jealous of all of Bucky's girls. He didn't want to share Bucky with them, didn't want to watch him dance with them and have fun with them, didn't want to deal with Bucky coming home and telling him excruciatingly detailed stories about how good they felt and how sweet they tasted. He wanted Bucky for himself, in ways that he never had even begun to comprehend until this very moment. 

He stopped laughing, the sudden and jarring realization carrying much more weight than Bucky's tickling fingers. He stared up at Bucky, both of their smiles disappearing and Bucky's fingers finally falling still. He also released Steve's wrists, blinking a few times and murmuring, "What?"

Steve's whole world had just shifted on its axis, plus he was more than a little bit drunk and therefore hardly in the right frame of mind to be making any life-altering confessions, but he found that he simply couldn't keep his mouth shut. The words tumbled out before he could even think of stopping them. 

"You were right," he admitted, voice low and deep. "I'm not jealous of you. I'm jealous of them."

Bucky paused, brows furrowing. "Who?"

"Bess. Dot. Vivian. All of them," Steve confessed, the truth of it both tremendously freeing and utterly terrifying. "I'm jealous of _them."_

As Steve watched his words sink in and Bucky slowly process them, he was suddenly overcome by sheer terror at the thought of Bucky possibly being disgusted and their lifelong friendship being ruined. It was an unthinkable prospect, more painful than losing a limb, and Steve waited on pins and needles for Bucky's reaction. 

But in the end Bucky simply frowned and asked, "Why?"

Steve shook his head and swallowed, feeling uncomfortably exposed. "I just..."

"You know why I haven't been able to keep one of them?" Bucky asked, his tone low enough to make Steve's skin break out in goosebumps and eyes locked with Steve's. "Because they all end up jealous of _you."_

Now it was Steve's turn to be confused. "What?"

"You're always gonna come first, Steve," Bucky explained with a small shrug. "None of them wanna come second. But I guess I can't give 'em that."

Steve stared up at Bucky in something of a daze, having no idea what to say back to that. Maybe this wasn't a moment for words, he decided. Maybe it was a moment meant for something more. 

His eyes left Bucky's to trail down to his lips, his stomach flip-flopping and nerves on edge. But when he made eye contact again Bucky didn't waver, didn't look away, didn't shrink from him, and Steve decided to hell with it. He'd already gone too far tonight, well past the point of no return, and if he was going to hell he might as well make the most of the ride there. 

He reached up and grabbed Bucky by one of his suspenders, pulling him down without meeting a shred of resistance. Their eyes stayed connected until they were too close and rolled shut, their lips a breath apart, and Steve felt like he might explode. His heart was pounding and thumping in his ears, his body flushed all the way down to his chest, and the handful of seconds that passed between them were the most exquisite torture he'd ever endured. 

But then he took the leap and leaned up, brushing his lips lightly against Bucky's in the smallest, most cautious kiss either one of them had ever experienced. It was the very definition of experimental and Steve didn't dare open his eyes after, far too afraid of what he might see if he did. But then Bucky leaned down again and really kissed him, much less timid and far more firm, sweet and full and everything Steve had never realized he wanted. 

But oh, he _wanted._ He wanted so much he grabbed Bucky's shoulder to hold him close and not let him run away, kissing him back like this was his only chance to ever do so and he had to make the most of it. His sudden hunger seemed to throw Bucky but only for a second or two before he cupped Steve's jaw to angle their heads, his tongue slipping carefully between Steve's parted lips and drawing a groan from Steve that made them break apart and stare at each other, breaths already coming hard and heavy. 

"Steve," Bucky muttered, eyes dilated and cheeks flushed, tone shaky. "I -"

Steve didn't let him say another word, catching Bucky off guard and flipping them over. Bucky hit the floor with a soft thud and Steve climbed on top of him, hands landing on his chest and taking fistfuls of his shirt as he straddled Bucky's hips and stared down at him through his long lashes. Steve had no idea what he was doing and the look in Bucky's eyes made it clear that Bucky didn't either, but that was okay. They were in this together, whatever this was. 

Steve leaned down and kissed Bucky without another word, the crash of their lips inelegant and clumsy but more than enough to set Steve's soul on fire. He'd had a handful of kisses before with girls that were pretty enough but it had never felt like this, never made him lose his breath and feel electricity in his veins. But Bucky's lips on his and their bodies pressed together as they were was something life changing, innocent as it was, like seeing clearly for the first time after years of near-blindness. 

Bucky tasted like whiskey and smoke, the very slight scruff on his face providing just enough of a scratch for Steve to feel it, and everything about it was both familiar and brand new at the same time. Steve was on sensory overload, drowning in Bucky's sweet masculinity and the way that he felt, both men kissing each other with an open and shameless hunger that only grew with each slide of their tongues. 

It was only a matter of time, then, before Bucky's hands landed on Steve's slim hips and gripped them hard, harder than Steve would have expected. He groaned into Bucky's mouth under the touch and rocked down out of instinct, and despite the layers of fabric between them it was obvious how affected they both were. Steve broke their kiss to suck in a deep breath against Bucky's lips, their noses brushing and Steve's hand slipping from Bucky's chest to his hair. 

To his surprise, Bucky grinned and peeked up at Steve, hands roaming down his thighs as he asked in a low tone that made Steve shiver, "The hell are we doin', Steve?"

Steve grinned back, shaking his head and murmuring as he leaned in for another kiss, "No idea." Then as their lips collided again Bucky gripped Steve's ass and rocked him down, grinding them together and Steve was positive that he'd never been so damn hard before in his life. They weren't even skin to skin and this was still the best thing he'd ever felt, so much better than his hand that he could hardly comprehend it. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was still terrified, and he knew on some subconscious level that the guilt and shame and fear would set in later - all products of his environment and the beliefs that he had been raised with - but for now all of that was as far away as it could be. This was Bucky, _his_ Bucky, and not a single shred of what they were doing felt the least bit wrong. On the contrary, nothing had ever felt more right. 

One hand curled into a fist in Bucky's hair at the top of his head, Steve rocked his hips in a rhythm that he built and Bucky followed, dragging their clothed lengths together and both groaning at the friction it caused. Neither of them were going to last long and there was no time to get clothes out of the way or move from the floor, both men too frantic and caught up in the moment to do anything but chase their pleasure harder. 

"Steve, _fuck,_ " Bucky moaned, Steve kissing down to his neck and biting at it between little licks and presses of his lips, clumsy but determined to leave his mark. Bucky raked his fingers through Steve's blonde hair and thrusted up against him harder, gasping, "Oh God, Steve, I'm -"

Steve growled and kissed him hard to shut him up, rhythm turning erratic as he teetered on the edge. "Buck," he whispered between hot, sloppy kisses, _"Buck..."_

Then Bucky's hands seized Steve and held him as close as possible as his hips stuttered and he dropped his head back, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as he came in his pants and left Steve breathless with the beautiful sight that he made like that. And when the realization hit Steve that _he_ was the reason for it, that he was the one who'd made him come like that, Steve let out a sound that he'd never made before and closed his eyes as the most powerful orgasm of his life washed over him. 

The aftermath was hazy but warm and pleasant, Steve's face buried in Bucky's neck as they recovered in each other's arms. Lying on Bucky like that, breathing him in and feeling safe and high following their... _whatever_ that had been, Steve never really wanted to leave. He didn't understand it but everything felt good and right and while he knew it wouldn't last, he wasn't gonna be the first to move or speak and break the spell. 

Bucky eventually stirred beneath him, giving Steve's back a soft rub and grunting, "C'mon, Steve, my back is killing me like this."

Steve's lips curved up into a smile, relieved by the normalcy of those words and the tone behind them. He slowly eased up off of him, catching Bucky's eyes as Bucky sat up and ran a hand through his wrecked hair. They looked at each other for a brief moment before Steve looked down and said, "So..."

Bucky grinned faintly and shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Do we gotta talk about this, or..."

"Think we already did," Bucky replied, getting to his feet and offering Steve a hand. "And I don't know about you, but I'm beat. Feel like I could sleep a week."

Steve took his hand and stood, their hands lingering together as he raised a brow. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. So whaddya say we clean up and go to bed," Bucky said, pulling Steve by the hand towards their tiny bathroom, "and we can talk more in the morning."

Steve nodded and let Bucky pull him along until they reached the doorway of the bathroom, at which point he paused and quietly asked, "Hey Buck?"

Bucky turned around. "Yeah?"

Steve hesitated. "We're okay, right?"

Bucky smiled and nodded, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Course we are, Steve. Nothing's gonna change that."

"You sure?"

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. "To the end of the line, right?"

Steve nodded and let out a heavy sigh of relief before smiling back and accepting in both his heart and his mind that everything really was gonna be okay. He trusted Bucky with everything he had in him and when he said things like that, Steve could somehow overcome his own doubts and anxiety to believe him. He didn't know what tomorrow would hold or how he would feel when it came, but he knew that no matter what he'd have Bucky. 

And as long as he had Bucky, Steve knew, everything would turn out all right.

**Author's Note:**

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